


Tagged

by pbmolecules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker, Destiel - Freeform, Hook-Up, Human Castiel, M/M, Sam gives Cas a nudge, Tags, bored in the bunker, canonverse, dating app, online
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 09:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13315236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbmolecules/pseuds/pbmolecules
Summary: Destiel.  After season 12 finale.  Does not follow season 13 at all.Andrew Dabb must have lost my letter, because this would have been the perfect season 13 opener.Or.Bored in the bunker, Dean uses a dating app to find a hook-up.Oneshot





	Tagged

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural or its characters. If I did, this shit would be rated X and on HBO.

Dean ran his fingers over the carvings on the table in the bunker. DW. SW. Thank God he had Sam. But days like today…Sam wasn’t enough. The bunker was quiet. 

He could hear the faint sounds of a TV playing down the hall. Probably Sam. Maybe Cas. It wouldn’t be anyone else. No one else was here.

Dean slumped down on the table. Hunting was more of a weekend thing of late. The slower stem was good for him. But not for his head.

His eyes drifted across the table to his laptop. He might as well cyber live. Nothing else was happening.

He sat up, opening the laptop and logged on. He scanned through some articles in the news, but nothing caught his eye. He scrolled over to Tagged. It was a dating app that matched you by keywords, tags, you were looking for or, in his case, advertising.

He opened a new account. He had thought about doing this a lot. No better time than now. 

Name. DW. That was more than enough.

From. Dean’s eyes lifted to the fortified ceiling of the library. Bunkerville.

Hmm. Add a photo? Or no photo? Hmm.

He found a picture of himself sitting on the hood of baby. He cropped everything out but a bit of baby’s hood and some chrome and a nice strip of his hip with his hand on it. There. A little tease.

He smirked, quite proud of his creativity.

Photo submitted, he went to the About Me Tags. Every word created a link to search from. In order of importance. 

Who was he?

Hunter. Male Over 30 likes cars. Road trips 

What else was there? He kept looking back at the first word. Hunter. He was a hunter. If anything, he wanted someone who understood his life. He couldn’t deal with an innocent bystander. Anyone touched by the life at this point would be better.

Seeking Tags.

Hunter. His thoughts drifted. All he wanted at the moment was someone in the life that he could freely talk around. The chances of a hunter even looking at this site were so slim that Dean almost closed the laptop.

“Whatcha doin?” Sam asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Dean twitched, but didn’t slam the laptop shut like his instincts screamed at him to.

“Jesus, Sam. Wear a damn bell.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “Are you trolling for a hook-up?”

“Yep.” The evidence was in Sam’s face. There was no denying it. Might as well go whole hog and bravado the shit out of it.

“Hunter?” Sam asked, stepping back. “You think you can actually find a hunter?”

“Hey. Why not?”

“And what if a vampire or witch sees that and lures you in?”

“So be it,” Dean sighed. “I’ll kill it and move on.”

“What are you killing?” Cas asked, coming into the room.

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam was one thing. But Cas always asked a lot of uncomfortable questions. “Nothing.”

Maybe Sam would be awesome and not tell on him.

“Dean’s trolling for a hunter hook-up,” Sam grinned, sitting on the table.

And apparently Sam was NOT awesome today. Or ever.

Dean glared at him. 

Sam shrugged back. “Dude. We’re all bored.”

“So I gotta entertain you?” Dean snapped.

“Generally,” Cas nodded, sitting at the chair across from Dean.

Dean laughed. “I’m not your entertainment, Cas.”

Cas swallowed a sip of coffee. “You’ll do til we get some.”

Dean stared at him. One corner of Cas’ mouth crept up slightly and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Fucker. He had been hanging around him and Sam waaay too long if he was getting more sarcastic.

Dean couldn’t help but grin back and look away. Freaking Cas. He always threw Dean off just a little.

“He is a hunter, male,” Sam read aloud, making Dean roll his eyes and die a little inside, “over 30, likes cars and road trips. Aw!”

Dean gave Sam the mother of bitchfaces. He loud and clearly broadcasted ‘back the fuck off’.

“And he’s seeking…a hunter.” Sam grinned, ignoring his warning look. “That’s it? Any hunter?”

Dean sighed heavily. “I just…” God, he hated talking. “Sometimes I…” Fuck this was sucking ass. “I don’t know!”

Sam laughed, leaning back. “I’m gonna die if you end up meeting Claire at some dive bar!”

Dean gave him a horrified look. And Cas looked pissed and slightly worried.

“Better add some more descriptors on there,” Sam warned.

“Get the fuck outta here,” Dean growled.

“You want me to go?” Sam asked innocently, not quite masking a laugh.

“Go.”

“Come on, Cas. Let’s give Spanky some privacy,” Sam laughed, wisely getting up out of Dean’s reach. He left the room and Dean’s eyes went back to the screen.

Hunter. He added Over 30

What else did he want? Big boobs? Nice ass? Nothing perked his interest. He just…wanted…

His eyes lifted over the screen to see Cas still sitting there, staring into his coffee. Cas was human. Again. Stripped of…a much cooler club and left here to die with his friends. His family. 

Dean had warned him that killing Billie would have wicked karma. Well, it bit Cas in the ass. After Lucifer killed him at the tear in the vale, he ended up in heaven. Once he and Sam had the whole Jack situation sorted out and caged, there stood Cas. Ringing the God damn doorbell to the bunker. Human. Beat to hell. Broken. 

A friend of Billie’s, because apparently reapers have time for friends, hunted Cas down in heaven, stripped him of his ‘angeldom’ and flung him back as a human. 

When Dean had opened the door, Cas stood there in a coat, shirt, and pants that weren’t his. He was filthy and shaking. And…happy.

“Cas?” Dean had gasped, lunging out the door and hugging him so tight he probably hurt him. “What the hell? Where you been? God, you stink!”

Dean held his best friend’s face in his hands, looking at him with all the wonder in the world.

“I got thrown back. They took everything. But it’s okay. I found you. And Sam.”

For a small eternity, Dean thought he might kiss the guy right on the mouth. It was Cas! Back! AGAIN! He hadn’t thought it possible! And here he stood, in his hands!

“You're human?” Dean managed to pluck out of all the crazy thoughts zipping through his mind.

Cas nodded. “I’m gonna die. With you. And Sam.”

And…oh God. He said it like it was a good thing. Dean’s heart broke. “No, Cas.” He strained to keep the panic out of his voice. “Are you sick? Are you hurt?”

Cas shook his head no with a shaky smile. “They thought it was a punishment to send me here to my ‘family’ (he air quoted, bringing Dean some much needed levity), to be with you and Sam and keep hunting.” He laughed. “They were so wrong though. Now I get to be like you and Sam. I get to die like a human some day.”

Dean’s breath caught in his chest. “Cas.” He hugged the stupid man to him. Feeling Cas hug him back just as tight. He did something he had never done and had never done since, he kissed Cas on the head. A long press into his temple, his dark hair tickling his mouth and his ear touching his chin. 

Dean chalked it up to, ya know, being back from the dead. But more because of Cas’ stupid innocence. To give up BEING an angel. How could there be anything worse? Sure, angels were dicks, but damn. They didn’t die! At least not unless another angel killed them. No more angel radio. No more teleporting. No more wings.

Dean’s arms tightened on the thought. He had never told him, but Cas’ wings were fucking…epic.

No more living forever. No more being bigger than the Chrysler building.

He was just…Cas. No last name. Just flesh and bone.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Cas laughed into his shoulder. “They think it’s a punishment.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. It is a punishment, Cas. You're gonna die. You're gonna get old. You could get sick. Fuck. Fuck.

“Dean? Who is that?” Sam had interrupted.

The hug that felt ten feet deep suddenly resurfaced. Dean stepped back, giving Cas a shaky smile. “It’s Cas! He’s back!”

Sam pushed his way through, picking Cas up in a hug that made Dean grin and choke out a laugh.

“I’m human, Sam!”

There was more said, but all Dean could hear was a high pitched squeal in his ears. He wanted to scream, ‘this isn’t fucking Pinocchio, Cas! Being human sucks! You stupid son of a bitch! You were in heaven! You were free! What did you do?!’

But instead, he breathed and patted his friend on the back and welcomed him inside.

“Can I stay here?” Cas asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Cas,” Dean said firmly. Fuck. The guy just succumbed to death so he could be with his family for a little while. “It’s your home, Cas. Of course.”

A last bit of fear left Cas’ worried eyes. His blue eyes traveled over the room below. Home. Yeah. It was quite a concept.

 

That was a year ago. Over the past year, Cas had broken Dean’s heart a thousand times. And he suspected he had done the same, if not worse to Cas. 

They had never dated. Never kissed. Never slipped up or got drunk and said something they shouldn’t. But when Cas found love in simple pleasures, it killed Dean a little inside. When he ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, it should be a mess of molecules. Not that dopey grin he got. Every time Dean remembered how human Cas was, it killed him a little inside.

This was his fault.

He should have let Cas choose the angels.

But in the end, that’s never what happened.

And while they might have a love that no one else understood, Dean wasn’t about to be pulled into that vortex too. Cas deserved WAY more than a beat-up hunter with a fractured soul. He deserved real love. A good human. A good person.

So, seeing Cas staring down into his coffee wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But he was steadfastly ignoring any pangs of…anything.

Cas was his brother.

His eyes went back to the screen. Hunter. Over 30. There just wasn’t anything else he needed. With the spirit of a flippant douche, he hit ‘submit’.

His tags bounced around the screen and settled back onto his profile. The search wheel was still spinning when he logged out and shut the laptop.

Cas looked up. 

“I’m gonna…I think I’m gonna go for a drive.”

Cas nodded. “Want company?”

Normally, Dean would say yes and off they’d go. But his mood today was too brittle. “Nah. I’m gonna jam and just drive.”

Cas nodded sadly.

“No bars.” Dean flinched inside for adding that. He didn’t need to explain his actions to Cas. Hell, Cas should be his wingman. But no. No, that was…no.

Cas’ eyes studied him quietly. He nodded subtly.

Dean got up and walked out while he still could. Before he folded and took him along. The strain of their unrequited feelings was fraying at the edges. It was part of what had him in such a damn slump.

“Goin’ out, Sam,” he said, passing through the kitchen.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“Yep.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Cas looked at the laptop with curiosity. They really were fascinating devices.

Sam walked into the library, chewing his lip, looking guilty. Sam never hid guilt well. As he came to know him, he had learned Sam hid nothing well. He liked that. Dean was much better at hiding things. It was confusing.

Sam sat down and opened the laptop, logging in.

“I got an idea.”

Cas lifted a brow. He felt rather frazzled by Dean lately. He had come to the realization only weeks ago that Dean would never love him the way he loved Dean. They would remain brothers. And he was working on finding peace with that.

“I can see how you feel about Dean, ya know.”

Cas looked up at him sharply. 

“I’ve seen it for a long time.”

Cas’ mouth dropped open to deny it, but the semi-pleading look in Sam’s eyes brought his lips back together. His eyes went back to his coffee.

“Dean loves you.”

Cas winced.

“He does, Cas.” Sam reached across the table, shoving the laptop aside and put a firm grip on his forearm.

“He’s too stupid to quit kicking his own ass long enough to just get over himself and…get together with you,” Sam explained.

Cas could feign confusion, but he understood too well. Returning to Dean had been a gift in his eyes. It had been a curse in Dean’s. Like Dean had stolen something from him. No matter how he had tried to prove only the opposite was true, Dean was haunted by it.

“I know just how to rock his little world,” Sam grinned.

God love Sam. He never stopped trying to help.

Cas couldn’t even fight the grin and blush that had him looking at his coffee in a new light.

“It’s a good plan!” Sam grinned mischievously.

Cas laughed. Sometimes, when he grinned like that, he reminded Cas of Gabriel. Of all the incredible brothers and sisters he missed. Inias, Samandriel, Anna…Gabriel was who he missed the most.

“Alright. What is this plan?” Cas asked, worried.

“You are going to create an account on this…” he looked at the app. “Tagged.”

Sam leaned over to the other table, picking up his own laptop.

“Wait,” Cas stopped him. “I’ll get my own laptop.” If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. Tricking Dean Winchester was not easy.

He jogged to his room, grabbed his laptop, and jogged back. The further he jogged, the more invigorated he became. He could do this. It was happening. He hadn’t had his wings ripped off for nothing. Dean would learn to see, one way or another. His time of beating himself up was over. And Cas was no Cupid. He had been an angel. A fucking soldier. He could do this.

A confident grin lit his face when he got back to the library. Sam, seeing him, only smiled wider. “Ooohhh, this is gonna be so good!” Sam laughed.

“Yes, it is,” Cas admitted openly. He opened his laptop and searched the app, adding the site to his desktop. He navigated through the account creation until he could create a profile.

“You're getting pretty good on there!” Sam laughed.

“Yes, well, here’s where I need help.” He scanned the blank profile. “Do I put my name?”

“No,” Sam laughed. “How about something similar. Or just something random? Like Jim?”

“Jim? As in James? My vessel?” Cas asked. Subterfuge was not his strong suit.

“Okay…not Jim,” Sam frowned. “Oh…probably asexual too.”

Cas tapped his fingers on the table. Asexual. He typed in Pie.

Sam looked like he was going to argue it, wrinkled his brow, and nodded. “Yeah, okay. That works.”

“A photo?”

“Hmmm.” Sam tapped his chin. “A picture of a weapon. Or a car.”

Cas minimized and image searched. 

“That one,” they both said. It was a .45 Colt similar to one Dean owned, laying on the hood of a sexy red corvette with black racing stripes. 

“Classic car, classic gun,” Sam grinned.

Cas saved the picture and uploaded it to his profile. Like pollen to a bee. He was going to lure Dean in. 

“Tags about me?” He looked at Sam, but Sam only grinned. He frowned back at the screen in concentration. He knew that look. He was supposed to figure out what to do.

Who was he?

Hunter. 

Ex angel seemed too informative.

Over 30

He smirked. He was definitely over 30. Sam chuckled.

“Put cars,” Sam suggested.

Cars, Guns

“Is this too ridiculous?” Cas worried aloud.

“Trust me,” Sam grinned. “Dean is a simple man. He’s gonna fall right for it.”

“What else should I put?” Cas asked.

“What else do you like?” Sam prompted. Sam would have made an excellent teacher. Husband. Father. He glanced over at him. “You should make one too, Sam. You deserve to be happy too.”

Sam grinned. “Yeah? Alright. I’m on it.”

Cas felt even happier inside. What else made him happy? Dean. Dean made him happy. But he couldn’t put that. He smirked.

Apple pie

Sam glanced over.

“Too much?” Cas asked.

“Nope.”

What else? Cas liked bees, but Dean knew that. The embarrassing memory of the time he had shown up on the hood of Dean’s car, covered only in bees, made him blush and cover his face with his hands. Ugh. He really was a mess. No wonder Dean looked at him like he was crazy sometimes.

He drummed his fingers on the table. What else did he like that wasn’t too obvious. Burgers was pushing it. Beer? He liked beer. He liked whiskey better. But then Dean might think he were an alcoholic. What else? Lakes. Mountains. Yes. He liked lakes in the mountains. The water and wildlife. Not so much the fishing.

Sitting by the lake

He moved on to the next section. Seeking Tags.

“Don’t put in hunter. That’s too obvious,” Sam warned.

“Alright.” Over 30, Male, Cars, Road trips

“Submit?” Cas asked with one last pang of worry.

“Submit,” Sam nodded.

He clicked the button and watched the words jumble around joyfully. 

“What if we aren’t matched?” Cas fretted.

“Dude. It’s a done deal. Look, you already have six potential matches!”

Cas’ eyebrows lifted. Even cupids didn’t work this fast. Of course, they had direct orders. This was…free will. He grinned at his most likely match. “DW from Bunkerville.”

That was Dean. There was a cropped picture that he recognized instantly. He knew those hands anywhere. A blush crept up his face and he shifted in his chair.

“Now what?”

Sam scooted over. “Okay…so, leave a brief message. Remember, you want him to be interested, but you don’t want to give it away that it’s you.”

Cas’ brow knitted in concentration. “Lying is so complicated.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have to do it long. Go with the hunter thing. Seems like he’s wanting to talk to a fellow hunter.”

Cas nodded. This was going to work. He was sure of it. 

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Dean pulled into the bunker and hung up the phone. He was in a much better mood. Of all the people in the world, it was Mama Tran that called him out of the blue to check on him. They had a talk that left him feeling refreshed with a side of slapped up the back side of the head.

He hung his keys in the kitchen and headed for the fridge.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas. How’s it hanging?”

Cas furrowed his brow, studied him for only a second and said. “It’s hanging well.”

Dean laughed. It just never got old.

He opened a beer and pulled out a chair. “Whatcha eatin?”

“It’s meatloaf and potatoes and…I’m not sure. It came in a bag.”

“Dude,” Dean reached right in, pulling the little tray over to himself.

“It smells unpleasant.”

“Cas this is a really old MRE. Where did you get it? Why are you eating it?”

Cas had a frown on his face and Dean took the fork (loaded with a glob of something whitish) right out of his hand. “Dude, don’t eat that. It’s bad.”

Dean smelled the little tray. It didn’t quite smell spoiled, but it smelled…yeah, unpleasant. He shook his head dropping the tray in the trash and the fork in the sink. He went back to the table.

Cas looked up at him with a peculiar look on his face.

“Are you gonna hurl?” Dean asked.

“No. Maybe not.”

Dean sighed, sitting down. “If food doesn’t smell good, don’t eat it. It’ll make you sick.”

“Please stop talking about it.”

His face was beginning to pale and Dean had a vivid flashback of the first time Cas threw up. He didn’t understand what was happening, he was drunk, and he kept trying to talk through it. It was…and unpleasant just seemed to be the word of the day here.

Dean rummaged through one of the cabinets in search of something to help. Coca Cola syrup. That would do it.

He poured a thin amount in a glass. “Here. Sip that. Slowly. It’ll help calm your stomach.”

Cas took the glass, eyeing it suspiciously. Dean grinned. Leave it to Cas to cook a bag of something old he found, yet be suspicious of what he gives him.

“Are you feeling better?” Cas asked.

Guilt nudged at Dean. “Yeah. I just needed a drive. Did me good.”

The pair shared a smile.

“I’m heading to bed. Night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean. Thank you.”

He went to the library, snagged his laptop and headed for bed. He banged on Sam’s door as he walked by. “I’m home. Goin’ to bed.”

“Night,” Sam called from his room.

 

Dean settled into his bed and opened the laptop. He saw a red eleven in the corner of his Tagged app.

“Huh.” He clicked it.

His strongest match was a hot little corvette with a nice colt on the hood. Pie. And there was a message.

Pie: Hi DW. Seems as though we both like to hunt. What sort of hunting are you into? 

Dean sat up. Had he really just found another hunter out there? Or was Sam right and this was a vampire?

DW: Hello there, Pie! I hunt a lot of things. How about you?

He got no immediate reply, so he checked out the others.

Missy from Montana was on a bearskin rug in a hot little dress. Nope.

The others were so random he was sure they were just computer generated.

He shut the laptop and put his headphones on. His ride had been nice. His head was clear. And if he were lucky, maybe he’d get some pie.

 

He woke several hours later in the exact same position. He winced at the ache in his neck and threw the headphones off.

He moved his laptop and kicked his shoes off, undressing for bed. Now that he was comfortable…he was awake. He rolled over. Nope. He was definitely awake. Shit.

He picked his laptop up and went over to his desk, plugging it in and turning it on.

He didn’t mean to outwardly grin when he saw he had a message, but he did. And it was Pie.

“What’s up, Pie?” He murmured.

He clicked the message.

Pie: You are good at not answering questions, DW. Like any good hunter, I suppose. I hunt ghosts. You?

“Huh,” Dean grinned. “A ghost hunter, huh?”

DW: Really? And what do you take a ghost down with? A vacuum or a shotgun?

He pulled up his email, killing time, but heard the unmistakable ‘ding’ associated with the app messages.

He minimized his email and clicked the app again.

Pie: A shotgun. With rock salt.

“Holy fucking wow,” Dean whispered. “I think I really found a hunter.”

DW: Okay. Just checking. Me too. Any interesting action your way lately?

“Who are you, Pie?” Dean clicked on the profile. The only picture was the car and gun. “Pie likes…hunters, over 30, cars, and apple pie.” Dean frowned. That was…oddly similar. “Pie is seeking someone over 30, cars, road trips, and sitting by the lake.” Something about this bothered him. “I really wanna like you Pie…but you're giving me a Djinn vibe. Little too perfect.”

Pie: Things have been slower lately. It is nice. I am ready for a nice long road trip to a lake. Sound fun?

Dean frowned. Yes. That sounded awesome. Too awesome.

DW: that sounds amazing! What lake would you go to?

Pie: I hear Lake Mead is quite amazing. A houseboat would be fun. Fishing too. But I’m not much of a fisherman.

Okay. This was a little less close to perfect. Dean’s shoulders relaxed.

DW: Never been there. Drove past it several times. I like to fish, but it’s no deal breaker. So, what made you try this app?

Pie: Looking for another hunter to spend some time with. Someone I can talk to when I get home from a hunt that understands where I have been. Someone to relate to. And I really would like a long road trip.

Dean smiled sadly. Hunting was a lonely life. Was it really so hard to believe there were others out there like him?

Pie: What exactly are you looking for?

Dean sighed. He wondered what Cas was doing. If he was feeling better yet. Maybe he should check on him.

DW: It’s complicated. But having someone to talk to would be nice. Gets kinda lonely.

How could he say…I need to hook-up but I can’t get attached? I’m already…what? Taken? “Bonded”, he said aloud. This wasn’t working.

DW: it’s always good to keep in touch with other hunters. If we cross paths, maybe we can have a beer sometime.

He shut his laptop. Pie. How could perfect not be perfect? He was ridiculous. 

He headed down the hall, knocking on Cas’ door. No answer. He opened it. The bed had not been slept in. He headed for the library. A light was on. “Cas?”

Cas was stretched out on the couch, laptop on his lap. “Dean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just checking on you. You feeling better?”

“I am,” he nodded, sitting the laptop to the side.

Dean felt restless. Like something was off. His reality had been fucked with way too many times to not listen to his gut. He glanced around the room suspiciously.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Cas asked, sitting up.

Dean sat on the now vacant cushion of the couch. “I’m…I’m okay. But something feels off. Like…”. His eyes landed on Cas’ laptop screen.

Tagged.

Pie.

A message box was on the screen but not sent yet.

Pie: I would love to meet you for a beer. Will you be in Kansas anytime soon?

His mouth was open and nothing seemed to compute correctly.

Cas followed his startled look and soon matched it. “Dean! I can explain!”

Dean stared at him openly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…I wanted to…” Cas stammered and looked near to tears. “Shit.”

Shit? Cas hardly ever swore. Dean scooted to the edge of the sofa, staring at the screen again.

“Cas…are you messing with me?”

“Messing?” Cas stammered. “Oh, Dean, no…I wanted to find you. I mean, I found you…and, oh…I wanted to be the hunter friend you want. The hook-up. The…the person.”

Dean knew he had a bewildered look on his face. “Do you even know what a hook-up is?”

“Yes,” Cas said defiantly, scooting to the edge of his seat and getting to his feet. “I know what a lot of things are, Dean. And I have tried and failed to be what I want to be with you! I don’t know what else to do! So I tried to make you like me before you knew it was me! Before I was…stupid, spoiled-food-eating Castiel with no last name.”

It all came out in a rush and Dean was sure Cas swiped a tear away. Oh god. What he had wondered about a million times and feared to touch with a ten foot pole was right here in his face. Dean stood up slowly.

“Cas…” Dean stared at the screen again. “I came out here to get away from that. That conversation. You know why?”

Cas’ face burned red with embarrassment. “Because I was doing it wrong?”

“No,” Dean laughed. “No. Because it was so perfect…I thought maybe I was being drained by a djinn! And anytime things are perfect, I…hit the road.”

Cas looked confused. No wonder.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and blew out a breath. “You weren’t doing anything wrong. I was.”

He opened his eyes, looking at his friend. His brother in arms. And somewhere along the line, the person he fell in love with. 

Dean laughed. Pie. Damn. 

Cas sighed heavily. “Dean. I can’t do that.” He pointed at the laptop accusingly.

“It’s okay, Cas. I think I get the message.”

“You do?” Cas stepped closer with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yeah. You want me to take you on a road trip.”

“Dean.”

“To a lake. But no fishing.”

Cas glared at him.

“A long road trip.” Dean grinned, stepping closer.

“That wasn’t my full intention.”

“With pie. And my car.” Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Some guns maybe?”

“Are you teasing me?” Cas asked flatly.

How could anyone so flat be so damn endearing? “Maybe. A little,” he chuckled.

Cas rolled his eyes.

“Maybe some burger stops too. Can’t live on pie alone.”

They were staring now. That staring game they were masters of. “I caught you,” Dean grinned. “Pie from USA. Nice corvette, by the way.”

“I told Sam it was too much.”

“Sam,” Dean rolled his eyes now. “Quit listening to Sam.”

Cas grinned. Finally. Dean blushed. He could feel his cheeks burn. “I shoulda done this a year ago. Shit, nine years ago.”

Cas’ smile faded. His eyes closed gently as Dean leaned in and kissed him. 

Dean pulled back, looking at him. “Wow…that was..”

Cas grinned, kissing him again. 

Dean moaned, opening his mouth and marveling that Cas could kiss like a damn champion.

They pulled apart, blinking at each other.

“I really would like to go on a road trip.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah? I’ll take you wherever you wanna go, Pie.”

Cas wrinkled his nose. “No pie. Hotdogs, maybe.”

Dean pulled back. “Did you? Was that a dirty joke?”

Cas blushed.

Dean barked out a laugh. No one amused him more than Cas. And he just seemed to get better and better at it. “Cas…are you sure this is what you want? Me? No one in the universe messes things up worse than me.”

“You never tried to be God.”

Dean bit his lip with a grin. “There was that.”

Cas shrugged. “No, Dean. I’ve tried to tell you, to show you. I put you first every time. I…”

“I know,” Dean whispered, not quite ready to hear it.

It was still awkward. Dean pulled him in for a hug. They had hugged plenty of times. This was more familiar.

But even that was different now. Their hands pressed and slid farther than they would have before. 

One of Dean’s hands found their way into Cas’ hair. The other settled onto his hip with a hungry squeeze. Dean tipped his chin down and found Cas’ mouth instinctively. This kiss was less awkward. Their bodies pressed together and Dean could feel just how much Cas wanted him. And he was just as hard. Just as eager.

“I’m taking you on a road trip. Just you and me. But first, how about a trip to my room?”

“Your room?” Cas stifled a grin, trying not to look too eager. “Yes. With you.”

Dean grinned, kissing him again. “Yeah. You and me. I love you, Cas. Man, that feels good to say out loud.”

“I love you more than anything in this universe, Dean Winchester.” Cas gripped him tight, kissing him hungrily. “And it’s about damn time you figured this out.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean laughed, taking his hand and leading him to his room. “Well, feel free to lecture me all night long.”

“Well, I’m not planning on doing a lot of talking,” Cas smirked.


End file.
